The Only One
by AbbiePurdy
Summary: <html><head></head>By now, Dean's used to it. Hospital rooms, lying through his teeth, coming up with fake stories. It's all to protect Sam after all, and the teen would do anything to protect his brother. Even if it means getting on the wrong side of his abusive step-father. Everyone pretends not to notice, and Dean's used to it. Until a young doctor named Gabriel manages to pop a hole in the plan.</html>


Dean knew where he was before he even opened his eyes. The smell of anesthetics and old people was pretty much a dead giveaway, especially for someone who'd been there so often. For a few moments, he debated on whether he even wanted to open his eyes. He still felt pretty damn tired, and it wasn't like he was going anywhere. But the few moments of relative peace were cut short with a single word echoing loudly through his head. Sammy!

He snapped his eyes open, jerking up into a sitting position as his eyes scanned the room for his little brother. The motion made him cringe, his wrist twisting into an odd angle. He looked down and realized they were being pinned down with those stupid leather straps. He must have fought the doctors. Honestly, he'd been here so many times that the admittance was all a blur of different memories mixing together. He tried to think about it for a moment, but he didn't remember fighting them. He thought he was half unconscious through it all. Or maybe that was last time. Hell, he didn't have time to ponder the thought. If he was wearing them, he probably deserved it.

Escaping them was actually pretty easy once you've been in them enough to know. Because of this, he was out in a matter of minutes and frantically pulling on his clothes. Where was his jacket? Was he even wearing a jacket when he came in? Screw it. He didn't have time for this! He sent up a silent prayer that Sam was hanging out with the nurses or getting a treat from the vending machines. Something told him neither of those were the case.

"Where's Sam?" He demanded to the blonde haired woman he assumed to be the nurse when she stepped into the room a moment later. She gave him a surprised look. Whether it was from the fact he was out and dressed or his tone, he didn't give a damn.

"Your brother? He left with your father about an hour ago." She replied in a confused-but-cheerful tone. And with that information churning in his stomach he shoved past her into the hall.

"Wait! You can't leave yet, you haven't been evaluated!" She called after him, trying to keep up. But even hurt and aching, Dean's adrenaline and practice made him faster.

"Fuck you!" Dean spat back. What was the point in being evaluated when no one gave a damn anyway? He had to get home NOW if he was going to keep Sammy from ending up here too.

He hoped he wasn't too late.

* * * *

Two weeks later, he was in the exact same place. Well, the rooms might have been different but the hospital part was definitely the same. Sam was curled up in his brothers bed, and even though the twelve year old was less than small he made it work. Dean might be in an uncomfortable position when he woke up, but both boys knew he wouldn't complain. Because Sam was there, at least.

The shaggy brown haired boy looked up when an unfamiliar man walked into the room. He tensed visibly, and the man raised an eyebrow in surprise. He must have noticed. Or maybe he was just wondering why Sam was laying on the teen instead of sitting in one of the chairs. It was probably more comfortable there.

"Shouldn't you be in school kiddo?" The man (he was a doctor, judging by the coat) asked, although his voice sounded more amused than suspicious. Sam snapped up into a sitting position.

"Don't tell him. I'll get in trouble." The pre-teen squeaked out, his hazel eyes wide in what could only be described as horror. And not the type of horror you get when you forget your homework at school.

"What do you mean by trouble?" The doctor asked slowly, a slight frown forming on his face.

Sam didn't say a word.

* * * *

When Dean woke up, it was without the warmth of his little brother. Hadn't Sammy come in with him? Did he go to school? Was it even a weekday? Figuring that out would require opening his eyes, but his head was spinning too bad to do so yet, so he rattled off possibilities in his brain. Any possibility other than that asshole taking him home.

_But what if he did take him home?_ His mind echoed insistently. Because that was usually the case when Sam wasn't present when he woke up. How long had he been asleep? Oh shit what if he'd been asleep for a few days? How long was Sammy with him? Oh God!

Dean ignoring the aching in his head as he pushed himself up. Nothing tying his wrists to the bed. That meant it was more than likely Sam had been there when he was brought it. Sam usually managed to keep him from struggling too badly. His pleading voice and puppy dog eyes had yet to stop working on his older brother. Dean doubted they ever would.

He didn't catch sight of Sam when he looked around, and he felt like he was going to be sick. He did, however, spot a man leaning against the wall opposite of the bed. He was wearing a doctor's coat and there was a sucker stick poking out from the corner of his mouth. His- was that fucking gold?- eyes were staring at him with a mixture of curiosity and something Dean didn't know the name of, but he didn't like it.

"Where's my brother?" He asked, and he really didn't mean for his voice to come out as hoarse as it did.

The doctor didn't respond, instead walking closer to him. Instinctively, Dean scooted back as far as the bed and his aching body would allow, which wasn't far. Almost as if he noticed, the man stopped just short of the bed. He opened up a file that Dean hadn't noticed until now. It must be his file, and he was only mildly surprised that it looked to be the thickness of a full-length novel. And he wasn't even 18 yet. He was sure that was a record of some kind.

"Good to see you're finally awake, Mr Evans." He said, and the emotion in his tone was hard to describe. Neutral, but with underlying layers of _something._

"Winchester." Dean hissed out instinctively. "My last name is Winchester."

If he weren't so angry and scared and confused he might have thought it was funny that this guy was calling him Mr when they looked to be about the same age. Actually, the guy looked a little older than him. Maybe early twenties? Really early twenties. Guy must have just got out of school because he barely looked old enough to drink, much less be a doctor.

"According to your file-" The guy started, but Dean didn't let him finish.

"I don't give a rats ass what my file says. My last name is Winchester. Always has been and always will be because that fucker isn't my father." He hissed.

The knowing smirk the doctor grew on his face made Dean realize he'd said too much. Fuck! The man didn't comment on it though, just looked back down to the folder as if he was finished with the conversation. Figures. No one really gave a damn about the weirdo kid who came into their hospital at least once a month.

"Why are you even here?" Dean asked, his eyes darting to the door. Sammy was somewhere with the bastard and he needed to go. Now. If only his damn ribs would stop aching when he breathed.

"Well I started off trying to avoid doing my job." He said simply, still scanning the folder. "But then a little kid with puppy dog eyes accidentally mentioned something that sounded weird so I decided to figure out what the hell is going on."

Dean's throat tightened. They were so dead. "Where is he?" He demanded again, his voice coming out more sharply this time.

"Downstairs in the cafeteria. Don't worry, I have my friend watching after him. Whatever- or whoever- you're protecting him from isn't going to get him without checking in with me first." He looked up and gave him a sly grin. "Doctors orders."

Relief. That was the only thing flooding through his system at the moment, and it was the first time he felt it in such a strong dosage since they told him that he and Sam would be going to the same foster home. Everything else could be dealt with in a minute. Right now, he knew Sam was safe and that was the only thing that mattered. Sam was always the only thing that mattered.

"Who are you?" Dean asked softly. The guy was wearing a name tag but Dean was too far away to read it properly, and he didn't trust the guy to lean closer.

"Gabriel Novak, I'm a new doctor here." The guy replied brightly. Bingo, Dean must have been pretty close on the age count then.

There was a soft crunch and he pulled the sucker stick from his lips, now void of all candy. He tossed it into the trash bin before pulling out a nearly identical one a moment later. Watermelon, Dean guessed from the faint sugary smell.

"Your file is seriously thick, Dean." The man, Gabriel, went on. "Biking accidents, falling off a roof, getting mugged- several times, and this one looks like you got hit by a fucking bus!"

"It was a truck." Dean grumbled softly under his breath. Apparently not soft enough that the man didn't hear though, because he perked up at the sound.

"How did that happen?" He asked, his voice sounding a lot more soothing than it had originally. Dean wasn't sure if he liked it better like this or not.

"Well according to the nurses, my friend and me were messing around and he didn't notice the car was in reverse." Dean replied easily, rubbing his eyes.

Gabriel hummed softly. "Is that so?" He asked, but didn't wait for an answer. "Even excluding that, your file is extremely interesting. Most teenagers- even the foster kids, have really boring files."

"Guess I just have really shitty luck, huh?" Dean replied meekly. He hoped it didn't sound as bullshit to Gabriel as it did to Dean's own ears. It probably did.

Gabriel snorted. "Yeah. Shitty enough luck to have to avoid going home at all costs maybe?" He asked, and Dean's heart sunk into his stomach. Busted.

"I don't know what you're talking about..." He lied through gritted teeth. Because whenever he admitted things to people nothing good ever came from it.

A ringing noise echoed through the tension and Gabriel glanced down before seeming to realize whoever was calling was important. He raised the phone up to his ear cheerfully, as if he hadn't just unraveled Dean's entire world within ten minutes of his waking up. He paused for a moment, listening before glancing back at Dean.

"Well turns out Sam's dad says he's here for him. So if you say there's nothing wrong at home I should give permission to send him home, shouldn't I?" He asked, his tone achingly sweet while his eyes challenged Dean to say something.

And Dean fell for it. Hook, line, and sinker. "No!" He nearly yelled, wide eyes staring at the older male in pleading horror. Gabriel smirked, and Dean realized he'd lost.

"Alright, bring Sam up to the room, tell the guy if wants to get him, he'll need to explain a few things to me." He said into the phone, hanging up without a goodbye.

Dean didn't know how to feel, but he was certain something was about to come to blows. He just hoped he wouldn't be left behind in attempt to clean up the pieces.


End file.
